Drake's Awakening
by Leeirane
Summary: The moments before death aren't the only ones when your whole life flashes before you. Sometimes, it takes only several seconds (and a great friend) to finally make you understand.


**Drake's Awakening**

**AN: This is very first story I've ever written, plus it's not my mother language. I just stormed my way through all three games and I really loved. The scene I'm exploring is very short but Nate is smart guy, he can think pretty fast.**

Disclaimer: I own neither the Uncharted series nor any of the characters.

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He stares at his hands and the small object he was handed, desperately trying to crack its secret. After four years it almost feels like a habit, he muses. Once again, he risked everything (his own and everyone else's lives) only to almost lose it at the end, and once again, when all is said and done, he has nothing.

No, that's not entirely true. He has her. He _always_ had her. But... maybe not anymore. Then again, that's the problem, isn't it? He wants her, he wants to be with her but he just _can't_. And for all the treasures in the world he can't figure out why.

'Thought I'd lost it', he says softly, glancing up from his hands and he means more than the band. His mentor nods with a slight smile, aware of the hidden meaning. He doesn't hear the answer his friend gives; when he looks down again he sees _her_.

He loves her. He always has. There's no question about _that_. His initial attraction soon changed into something much deeper, much more serious. Admiration came first, than respect. Sometime during their first run for their lives he started to worry about her safety; it has become his primal concern, all the treasures completely forgotten. When he saw her laying in that helicopter, unconscious, he was afraid he had lost her and in that moment he knew he cared about her. He was in the middle before he knew he had even begun. And then in Tibet, when he was _sure_ he had lost her, he knew he loved her.

But he never told her. He never actually said those words aloud. Firstly, he was _certain_ (or at least he convinced himself that he was certain) that she knew anyway, and secondly... he just _couldn't_. _He couldn't bring himself to say it_. But why?

Love wasn't the problem, he concludes, gently fingering the band. He loved her and she loved him back. Again, no question about that. He _knew_ she loved him; after all, she _married_ him, didn't she? So what went wrong? When they returned from Tibet, they got together (again) and he screwed it all up (again).

_Yes_, he worried about her, about her safety. And _no_, he was _not_ a hypocrite who thinks _he_ can travel all around the world and take care of himself even if – _when_ – he gets into trouble but _she_ cannot. He knew she could handle herself; it's just... it's just... _Oh, crap_. He _still_ can't explain it, even after more than a year. He just wanted her to be safe, not to give up her job and stay home. But he was never good with words. Not in times like these, not when it _really_ mattered. So he had said something, it came out wrong and everything went south. The thing is, he admits to himself now, he hasn't actually _tried_ to explain himself back then, to set things right. He had _used_ her misunderstanding to end it, end them. To let her walk away.

Back then, he believed it was for the best. He was getting restless, eager to depart on another adventure but he didn't want to leave her. So he took the easy way out and made _her_ leave. It was beyond selfish, cruel and heartless and he knows it, he always did; he still disgusts himself whenever he thinks about it, he still despises himself for it. But this _everyday life_ without any excitement, always the same and never changing, was getting... _dull_ and worse, _terrible_ even. He felt choked in the city; it was concrete jungle to him, his personal prison. He wasn't born for this kind of live and he always knew it. He wanted to travel, to experience something... to have that kind of live he has, actually. He never thought about women in terms of anything stable, _the rest of his life_ kind of stable. When she walked into his life, he only knew he didn't want her to leave, ever. And she didn't. He drove her out.

They called her 'white bread, picket fence'. On one hand, it couldn't be farther from truth but on the other... she _did_ want the stability. Home, kids, husband. Something... _someone_ to return to, day after day, always the same place with the same people. And that frightened him.

So, was it _commitment_ he was afraid of? Was _that_ the reason he walked out on her? He stares at the band as he contemplates the question. The 'someone to return to, day after day' part he is okay with. After all, _he_ proposed to _her_ and even if he did it kind of offhandedly, he meant it and _never_ regretted it.

No, it's not commitment either, he concludes. Not in itself. He _wants_ her in his life and he _wants_ to be part of hers. He wants them to have a life _together_. But the idea of spending the rest of his life at one place, getting _stable_ job or whatever... something about that makes his stomach clench painfully.

Come to think about it, he has to wonder if she knew how he felt back then, how he still feels about that kind of life she wants and deserves. If she knew he was about to chicken out, to walk out on her, and simply had more courage and strength to walk away first. It's quite possible, he admits, she always was smarter than him in these things and always knew him better than he knew himself. That is another thing that scares him.

She _understands_ him. He told her about himself, his childhood, his life and even though it was very brief and succinct she somehow got the whole picture. She heard and understood all those things he _didn't_ say. She knew why he came here the moment she saw them and she called him on it. She knew what he was _really_ after even when he refused to acknowledge it himself.

Huh, what is it now? He is so immersed in his inner musings that he doesn't really listen to his friend's talking but something he says catches his attention. _'What you do with the hand you're dealt.'_ What exactly _is_ he dealt, he wonders. Less than perfect childhood, orphaned and sent away at the age of five, living on the streets, stealing for survival. Then meeting with his mentor and treasure hunting – still stealing more often than not but this time for the thrill, the excitement.

He follows his mentor's gaze and turns to look towards the main entrance where she's coming with a travel bag and a question comes to his mind. _What_, _who_ he really is? A treasure hunter, a thief, an adventurer, a descendant of a great man. He never had what she wants – real home, real friends and family, stability, safety... He only has this man who stands in front him, his only friend and more father than his real one ever been. And, he supposes, he has her.

He glances at the band and then his friend again, his heart skips a beat and suddenly he _understands_. He doesn't know what typical home looks like because he never had one. He doesn't know how real family works because he never had one. He has nothing to offer, to give her and he was afraid that one day she would figure it out too. It was the same with his mentor all those years ago. It took him nearly two years to fully open up and trust him. He was afraid that he would be left alone again, broken, his trust betrayed. He knew what _he_ could gain from a partnership with the older man but he saw no profit for the man himself so he was careful to trust.

And she... she deserves so much but he has _nothing_. Lately, his expeditions ended up with no profit at all (he was lucky to stay alive) so he isn't exactly a rich man, he's not very honorable person (treasure hunter is just a better word for a thief), he knows nothing else beyond treasure hunting and up until few days ago, he was _obsessed_ with his ancestor and his secrets because he believed it was all he had. To put it simply, he didn't think himself worthy of her.

_Oh crap_, he never realized, never admitted even to himself that he felt that way. But she married him and still wears her band despite their estrangement so _she must think him worthy of her_, right? She _chose_ him and really, who is he to question his wife, the smartest, most amazing woman in whole world?

He smiles a little at his friend, grateful beyond words, and walks to her, knowing his life it about to right itself at last.


End file.
